


Tethered For Miles

by artemiss_quinn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Humor, F/M, Hogwarts Era, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Mild Language, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-03
Updated: 2013-01-08
Packaged: 2017-11-23 13:36:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/622763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artemiss_quinn/pseuds/artemiss_quinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Hermione resorts to heavy measures to complete her mission for the Order, she winds up not only drastically impacts her life, but that of Draco Malfoy's as well. As they work to correct her mistake they are forced to reevaluate their lives and what they find may not be for the better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**AN** : This isn’t the general format for the story. The next chapter will be in 3 rd person. I may revisit first person but I’ll see how well it’s received. 

Believe it or not this fic was inspired from Eminem’s Beautiful some time ago.

 

** Chapter One **

The past two weeks in Italy had flown by far too quickly in my opinion. In fact, my entire summer holiday felt like a flash of laughter, relaxation fun and happiness. Upon returning from Hogwarts at the end of June, I had spent a lot of time with my family and extended family. At the end of July my parents, myself and my father’s brother, along with his family left for Italy. I had spent several hours researching Italian culture and the language. I didn’t get the accent down quite right but I could say “Where’s the loo?” and “May I have a glass of sparkling water, please?” perfectly, along with a couple dozen other phrases. It was not perfect, but I think I did alright.

Upon returning home in mid- August I found a  stack of letters addressed to me. Most were from Harry and Ron regarding my whereabouts. I admit that between the barbecues, luncheons, general get-togethers and the holiday in Italy, I had had little contact with my two best friends. I had expected to miss them immensely like I had in previous summers, but I was surprisingly wrong. Usually I found it difficult to mingle with my extended family as I was forced to hide a big part of my identity from them. Despite this, pretending to be a regular muggle was refreshing. I had felt like an invisible weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. In their world, I did not feel the need to worry about the horcruxes or whether or not a hidden death eaters would kill me without a moment’s notice. It was as if the wizarding world did not exist and frankly I could not complain. I felt a smidgen of guilt as I knew my friends did not have the same luxery but at the time, I could not have felt freer. Of course, that smidgen of guilt quickly turned into a vast ocean when I read the letters. 

The situation with Voldemort was getting worse, muggles, muggle-borns and blood traitors were being targeted at alarming rates. More muggles were going missing or turning up dead with no known cause of death. The magical community knew it was the work of the killing curse. The Order was doing their best to keep up with Voldemort’s next move, but they were always a step ahead. And with Dumbledore gone... 

I should have expected Ron and Harry to worry. Being a muggle-born and best friends with Harry Potter, I was prime abduction target. Not replying to their letters probably left them in a state of panic and I would not have been surprised if they showed up on my door step looking for me. I could see their faces as they would have seen my house empty, clearly untouched for days. The weight suddenly materialised on my petite shoulders again.

I made my way up the stairs to my bedroom, taking the stairs two at a time. My bedroom was fairly simple. The walls were light peach in colour with a white trim along the top. Across from the door was a wide window, overlooking the driveway. The window sported white blinds to my dismal. I always meant to get curtains, but I didn’t spend enough time to validate it.  My desk was against the wall to my right with my bed against the opposite wall. My bureau with a mirror hanging over it was near the door and the white door leading to my closet was right beside it.  My room was nothing spectacular, but it was certainly an upgrade from the dormitories at Hogwarts. Glancing at my window again, I saw Pig perched on the sill in a drowsy state. I absently wondered how long he had been there waiting.

I pulled out my trunk from my closet and found a quill and some parchment. Sitting at my desk I found writing with a quill a bit strange after not using one for almost two months but halfway through my response letter, I became comfortable again.

I briefly told them about my trip and promised that I was alright. I also said I would be arriving Sunday evening to spend the last few weeks of summer with them all at the Burrow.  The apology for my absence was bit difficult to write. With all that was going on I wasn’t sure how to word it without sounding insincere and indifferent. I made a note that a proper apology would be in order when I saw them.

I gave my letter to Pig who almost fell off the sill after I startled him by opening the window. The tiny owl instinctively nipped at me before realising who I was. I told him I’d give him a big treat when I saw him again. He titled his head in an odd manner before taking off.

Sighing I turned back to my desk and picked up the last letter, one that wasn’t from Ron or Harry, but from Hogwarts. Hogwarts. I had wondered what would happened to school with Dumbledore gone. Many thought it would close in the wake of the war but I had hoped it was not. I still had much to learn and I had to do my N.E.W.Ts. Granted I had no idea what I wanted to do once I left Hogwarts, I knew I wanted to give myself every opportunity possible once the war was over. 

_Yes, we will win the war_ I told myself.

I could feel the envelope was thick and that gave me hope. Usually that meant supply lists, prefect duties and upcoming announcements for the year. I breathed out heavily and tore open the envelope. Inside I found four things; a letter from McGonagall, about Hogwarts still being opened and that term would start on the first of September, a supply list for all of my classes, a Head Girl badge and a letter to go with said badge.

 I Hermione Jean Granger was made head girl. I couldn’t say I was completely surprised as I was at the top of my class and a well spoken leader but the possibility of being Head Girl hadn’t even crossed my mind in months. With the possibility that Hogwarts could close and with Voldemort’s horcruxes still out there, I had pushed all hopes and thoughts of being Head Girl out of my mind. There was a very real possibility we wouldn’t even be returning to Hogwarts, regardless of its status. Yet now, here it was, my badge, and it filled me with a welcoming sense of purpose.

I walked over to the mirror above my bureau with the golden badge and held it over my right chest. I swept my curly chocolate brown hair over my left shoulder. I was glad that it was not as frizzy as it once was but it was still a mission to get a brush to run through it effortlessly on the first try. The gold in the badge brought out the slight golden speckles in my auburn eyes. To be completely honest it just looked liked it belonged there all along. I couldn’t help but smile at the thought.

 

Before I knew it, Sunday was here. By noon I was already packed and ready to go and so I spent the rest of the afternoon trying to distract myself from my upcoming reunion with the Wizarding World. I watched two movies with my mum, both in which the lad and the girl got together and lived happily ever after, or so we’re lead to believe. She is definitely a sucker for that sort of thing, while I just put up with it because I enjoy her company.

Soon after my dad asked me to drive with him to the store to pick up a bottle of wine for the dinner I would not be partaking in. We did not speak on the way there and it was almost a silent trip back until he broke the comfortable silence.

“You sure you don’t want to stay for dinner ‘Mione?” he asked, focusing on the road.

“Yeah,” I sighed “I promised I’d be there for six.” I glanced at the clock on the dashboard, quarter-past-five. My father simply nodded and we were silent for a little while more.

“Did you have fun watching the movies with mum?” I could tell he was thinking about something that made him uncomfortable her nervous. He only forced conversation when he wanted the other person to bring up whatever he was thinking about. I decided to go along.

“It was alright. Not my thing, you know.” I replied. He chuckled and turned down the radio that I hadn’t even noticed was on until now.

“You know your mother, love will conquer all.”

I smiled at my father’s recital of my mother’s words. “And she knows I don’t believe in that rubbish, but every chance she gets...”

“She’s got you watching those films” he finished my sentence with a grin.

“Or reading the novels, or telling me some sappy story from your past.” I added.

He turned came to a red light and stopped the car as we laughed. He finally turned to me and said “You know your mother only wants to see you happy right?”

I turned to him “I know. But I wish she didn’t associate me being with someone with happiness.”

“Mmm,” I could tell he was trying to figure out how to get the conversation to where he wanted it to go. “What’s your friend, er- Ron up to?” 

Ron? That’s what my father wanted to talk about. I could tell that my disbelief was drawn all over my face as my father looked at me and quickly corrected himself. “I mean Harry and the family and everything.”

I wasn’t buying it. “I suppose they’re all alright, seeing as I haven’t seen them yet. But from there letters, everyone is well.” He nodded and when the light finally turned green he pulled off and his focus was back on the road. “And there is nothing happening between Ron and I,” I added.

I had talked about Ron, mostly with my mother, in the past. She could tell that I liked him and she hoped that I would muster up the courage to tell him how I felt. Up until recently the mere idea of putting myself out there like that made my stomach churn, but last year, I felt something. It became clear to me that there was something there with us, but neither of us were ready to explore it and that’s where we left it. I told my mother this while we were in Italy and now I was guessing that she let all of this slip to my father at some point.

“Especially with as war going on.” My father said in a low voice that I barely heard. I could feel my eyes widen as he mentioned the war. It wasn’t something I talked about with them. Mainly because they could not fathom their little girl fighting in battle. In our world- their world, you trained for months to do that sort of thing with weapons and machinery, not just the clothes on your back and a piece of wood.

They were frightened and so was I, so we avoided the topic altogether.

I nodded and stared out the windshield as we neared our home.

“You’ll be fine ‘Mione.” he continued “You’re strong and you know that. Now you just have to show the world that.” I looked at him as he pulled into our driveway. This was what he wanted to say all along but didn’t know how to bring it up out of the blue. I admired my dad that way. He had such a good heart and his old ways of thinking that fathers couldn’t get emotional and have heart-to-hearts was endearing.

He put the car in to park and pulled the hand break up before he glanced at me, unsure of my reaction to his words. I smiled at him as I felt my eyes water, threatening to spill tears. My father’s eyes were glossy as well but he would not cry, I’ve never seen him cry. Instead he grabbed my shoulder and pulled me into a hung. Unsure of what to do with his hands, he patted my back as though I was an infant. I, not as afraid to show my emotion, held on to the man how helped create me.  My tears finally fell.

“I love you Dad.” I mumbled into his tear stained shirt. He stopped patting me awkwardly and rubbed my back in a comforting notion. He kissed the top of my head and held me tighter.

“I love you too Hermione.”

Once my father and I arrived home, I only had a couple of hours with my parents before it was time for me to go. By the time six 0’clock arrived I was already in the entrance with my trunk and ready to go. I had said goodbye to my parents many time before as this wasn’t the first time I had spent part of my holidays with the Weasleys, and of course I had to say good bye when I went off to Hogwarts each September. This time was different. Despite the bonding moment with my father earlier and spending most of the day with my mum, there was still a trace of tension. Like me, they were afraid for their only child’s life. And like me they did not want to bring it up because that would make it all far to real. Instead we hugged and said our goodbyes like any other year. I promised to write and told them I would be back for the holidays. As I went to walk over the threshold of the front door I turned around to look at my parents one last time. Our deep brown eyes knowingly met one another. With a slight nod and a faint smile I turned and walked away from my childhood home.

_______________________________________________________________

 

I never spent much time in the attic of the Manor growing up, if any. It was filled with old family heirlooms, also known as rubbish. It was dusty, and mouldy as the house elves never touched it. Why would they though? In a family of three, one was at school for ten months out of the year, one was in Azkaban and the other spent most of their time in the gardens. A waste of efforts it would have been. So when I saw the transformation my mother had made of the tight space, I was quite amazed.

The once cluttered, single windowed dirty room now housed two makeshift beds, an armoire and a few personal possessions. The old contents of the attic lined the walls and were no longer dust covered. It was simple, below my standards but it was my home now.

After fleeing Hogwarts in June with Snape, I  had expected to die. I had made up my mind that I would not beg and plea for my own life, but simply ask that my mother and father not be harmed for my incompetence. I had gone through all of planning, the trials and the failure to keep them safe. I was not about to have my efforts be in vain. My plan to die a brave man fled when I arrived at Malfoy Manor that night.

***

_I felt my insides lurch as we landed at the gates of Malfoy Manor. The dash from the castle and side along apparation, along with all that had happened  in the past few hours had had my stomach in convulsions. Before I could crouch down and attempt to alleviate my symptoms, Snape grabbed the cuff of my robes and dragged me through the iron gates._

_Once I caught my breath and felt like I could talk without vomiting I asked Snape what we were doing at my home._

_“We are going to see the Dark Lord, Draco. Surely you felt his summoning.” he replied, sounding vexed by the situation he was in._

_“Of course I did.” I retorted, absently touching my Dark Mark. I still had not gotten used to the instantaneous pain that shot it self up my left forearm when the Dark Lord requests an audience. Tonight was the first time he had summoned me since I became a death eater. When I first felt it, I thought it was my punishment for failing my task, he was going to kill me through the Dark Mark. I had a brief fit of fear, before remembering that this was his way of calling his branded followers. If I hadn’t felt like a Death Eater before, I definitely did then._

_“So what are we doing here for?”_

_Snape continued at a brisk pace and to my shock, I was finding it difficult to keep up with him. I was much more exhausted than I though._

_“The Dark Lord has taken up residence at the Manor Draco.” he said, not turing to look at me. I almost came to a complete stop._

_“What?!” I protested “What the hell is he doing in MY home?!” Snape stopped abruptly and whirled me around to face him._

_“Do you have any idea what you are about to encounter boy?” Sanpe asked urgently. Before I could reply he continued “The Dark Lord does not take kindly to failure. He will not hesitate to kill you or worse. It does not matter that you are still a child, you left that behind when you took that mark.” I was going to say that I was not a child, far from it, but the look on his face threatened to have me see my dinner again, so I decided to keep my mouth shut. When I did not speak, Snape put both hands on my shoulder and looked me squarely in the eyes. “As far as you are concerned, the Dark Lord’s presence at Malfoy Manor is a great honour.”_

_I continued to look at him as I felt a familiar scowl settle on my face. I hated this, all of it. I could tell the almost black eyes staring back at me hated it as well, but like me, he had no choice. After a curt nod, he turned away and started again for the Manor._

_***_

Sharing my home with the Dark Lord and a hand full of his followers was an ordeal in itself. Being an only child, I never had to share, I don’t think I even knew the meaning of the word until I was nine-years-old. This has made me very territorial, I learned this in my days of sharing a dormitory at Hogwarts. My trunk, quill, my night table, my window, my swiss chocolates from home. I never cared for the treats Mother sent me so I could have shared them, but I didn’t, because they were mine.

Now sharing what my ancestors had worked so hard to achieve and what was rightfully mine with the very man who tore apart my family was asking too much of my seventeen year old self. I was angry and irritable to say the least, but given the circumstances, I had to hold my tongue and act as though taking over my family home was a gift. It is what my father would have done.

My father was still in Azkaban and I knew he would be disappointed to know what was happening in his absence. 

***

_“You are just like your father Draco,” the Dark Lord hissed “a failure!” I was kneeling in what once was my family’s sitting room. The Dark Lord had turned it into some sort of a throne room, where he sat in a high back chair my father used to occupy when we had company. The death eaters present stood before him and I was directly in front of him, on my knees, alone. I tried to tune out his words, hoping death would come soon and painless, but it was difficult to, when his words were truth._

_“He was outsmarted by teenaged brats, and you by an old fool!” he continued. “Tell me boy, what did the old coot promise you in exchange for his life? I know, he must have said something.” I glanced up at the Dark Lord, his serpentine face waiting for an answer._

_I had nothing to say, I was too afraid to speak. Hell, I was too afraid to breath. This angered him even further. “CRUCIO!” was the last thing I heard from him before my body jerked up in agonizing pain. I cried out as what felt like lightning shot up my spine and into my skull. I grabbed my head, the pain causing me to jerk forward and strike the cold floor with my nose. I doubled over still crying out over my head that was seemingly having nails dug into every inch and my now broken nose. Why wasn’t anyone stopping him? But then, who would? Snape? He had his own arse to worry about. I truly was on my own._

_When the curse was lifted, I realised that I had began to cry at some point when I went to wipe the blood from my face._

_“Answer me boy.” the Dark Lord sneered. I had no other option, I had to make my mouth work. The curse had revved up my already unbalanced stomach from before and I hoped it would only be word escaping my lips._

_“My Lord,” I began. My father taught me that that was the proper way to address the Dark Lord if you did not want to endure what I just had. “He, he told me- that he would keep m family safe… if I hid out at the Order.”_

_The Dark Lord laughed, a nasty, hollow laugh. “Boy, was that not what I was doing for you already? You kill the fool and your father will continue to sit in Azkaban as opposed to meeting his demise at my hands and your mother… stays in one piece. The fool was far too late at making deals.” he laughed again, his laugh echoing through the large room with it’s now bare walls._

_I felt something move beside me, something inhumane. Before I could turn my head to see what it was I had all the air forced out of my lungs by a heavy wight on my weakened back that landed me on my stomach._

_“Don’t be alarmed by Nagini, she won’t hurt you, yet. In fact, it seem that she has taken a liking to you.” I heard the Dark Lord say quizzically. I was choking and struggling to catch my breath as I heard the lizard hiss in my right ear._

_Turning my head in an attempt to escape the haunting hissing I saw her. My mother. She was far in the back of the crowd but I could spot her in a sea of hundreds any day. She was sobbing quietly but that was not what alarmed me. Unfortunately I have seen my mother cry on a number of occasions and it never gets any easier. There isn’t quite a feeling, at least not one that I’ve experienced like seeing your own mother cry. It was seeing her bloodied collar, her bruised eye, her limp hand, features that were not there when I flooed with her the day before, that caught me. Whatever it was that they were going to do to her they had already done. Or had they? Regardless that was not a part of the agreement. She was not to be harmed, not until I faced my fate for failing. Yet here she was, bloodied and broken, crying over her only child. Her only child who’s eyes she refused to meet._

_The hissing continued and it was all I could hear. It was like a lull, pressuring me to  submit. It wasn’t needed though, I wasn’t moving, but neither was the snake. It just kept hissing in my head. I don’t remember how long I was on the ground trying to get my mother to look at me before I felt the need to get up. Perhaps I was determined to not have that as the last image of my mother or maybe I was just afraid that I would leave this world because of a damn snake but I managed to roll over onto my back with great ease. I used my legs to stabilise the creature as I coiled my arm around its upper half. She quickly lunged at me and my hand clamped on its jaw. I had rolled over on to my front, putting my weight on the snake when I felt my body go stiff and it uncoiled itself from my grip. It was then that I had realised what I had done, and then that I knew what I was going to be killed._

_I imagine one doesn’t wrangle the Dark Lord’s pet like a ragdoll and lives to tell the tale, so I released my hold of the serpent and it slithered away slowly. I shut my eyes and said I little prayer for my parents’ safety. After holding my breath for a few seconds, I heard slow, dull clapping. I cracked open on of my eyes to see the Dark Lord clapping and having an almost amused look on his face._

_“Well Draco, it would appear you have some fight in you after all.” he said as he glanced down at his companion who slithered to his feet. I saw him nod across the room and before I knew it, I felt my self levitate above the ground and out of the room. The last thing I heard was the Dark Lord hissing to his companion before I was plunged into darkness._

_***_

No-Nose had the audacity to stick me in my family’s dungeons. It wasn’t too cold since it was July and it was well maintained as any proper dungeon should be. I was both grateful and ungrateful for the time spent alone. I had much time to think, too much time. I thought about my father and how is mistakes from the past had put us in this situation.  My mother and how I prayed she was alive. I am not a religious person by any means, but in times of desperation you’ll use any means to gain some comfort. Even if that means hoping to an invisible man in the sky for your mother’s safety. I thought about my mission and how impossible it seemed, how I was set up to fail from the start. I thought of how I managed to do something no one had yet to do, and it brought me a small sense of pride. But then I thought of the old man. I’d never thought it possible to see the only man the Dark Lord feared look so frail. If I hadn’t seen it myself I would not have believed it. And I thought of his words… and that’s when I stopped thinking. I would try to think of other things, my childhood, my housemates, even that peculiar incident with the snake but it always came back to the old man and his dying words. 

I was there for around 3 weeks, fed next to nothing, before I was reunited with my mother in another kind of prison, the attic.

Although it was above ground, the attic was not much different than the dungeons. Years of neglect showed in it’s moulded crevices, rat droppings could be found in the corners. The only window that took up most of the far wall had been charmed to only show the ocean on a cloudy day. My mother quickly recognized the body of water as the North Sea where Azkaban is. We were told  by one of the Death Eaters who brought up food that that was the Dark Lord’s way of reminding my mother and I what he saved us from. The window was so dirty however that it really did not make a difference. Had the Dark Lord not murdered all of my house elves (I suspect he did since I have not seen one and Mother tells me he does not care for the creatures) I would have done it myself for leaving the attic in such shambles.

 I could not say or do anything about the situation, to my dismay, but my mother tried to encourage me to be positive. I don’t know what is positive about a mad man forcing you to be a prisoner in your own home. She tried to put on a brave and positive front, but I hear her cry at night, and this only makes me angrier. 

The first time I saw her after my stay in the dungeons had been just as anyone could expect. Malfoys don’t show their emotions, so when I was escorted upstairs into the attic and I first laid eyes on her unmarred face, I gave her a curt nod. She smiled slightly and said that it was good to see me again. That was it until that night when we were sure we would not me disturbed. I was sitting on my own, looking at one of the many muggle books that we were being punished with when she came over and sat down beside me. We sat like that for a few minutes before she wrapped her arms around me and we just cried. We cried for Father, for our home, for our situation, for our wounds, for each other and for ourselves. We didn’t talk about what I had done or didn’t do, we didn’t talk about the wounds she had on the night I was supposed to die. We just cried. It’s not a night I’ll soon forget.

“Draco, have you looked at the mail?” my mother said as she emerged from the make shift loo, removing me from my thoughts. It had been been a week since that night. 

I was surprised to see a toilet and sink in the attic, but that was all. My mother and I had managed to drape some tapestries we found in old trunks from the ceiling to separate the main space from the washroom. It feels dirty and beneath us but we have no choice. This must be how muggles live.

“Yes mother, it’s the only mail we’ve gotten all summer.” I said dully from my makeshift bed of bed spreads and curtains. Whatever owls arrived at the Manor was intercepted by the Dark Lord or his followers. The only thing we got was the Prophet every now and then and now my letter to Hogwarts, that I had no intention of opening.

“You should open it Draco.” she said glancing at the letter settled on a top of muggle record player we were supplied with for entertainment. Another cruel joke obviously.

“Why?” I asked, propping myself up on my elbow. “I know what it says. I’ve received the same letter six years in row. I don’t see why this year should be any different. Besides, it’s not like I am going.” My mother sighed as she sat down in front of me on her own makeshift bed.

“Mon chou,” she began in French. It was our form of code since we did not know what was happening outside the confines of our attic and who could be listening. As far as my mother was aware, there were no Parisian death eaters in our home and none adequately versed in the language. “There is no way to trace your involvement in that man’s murder. As far as the school is concerned, you left early for a summer holiday with me. Nothing has to change.” I knew she was referring to Snape and whatever influence he had had over the Dark Lord and Hogwarts.  
  
“Nothing has to change?” I replied in disbelief and in English. My french wasn’t as good as my mother’s. My father and his family had learned the language for business reasons in the past. She picked up the language from her seven years of schooling at Beauxbatons and then her additional years of teaching Herbiology there before having me. I learned it by having it forced upon me as a child and now practised it out of necessity. I personally thought the language was overly complicated and had too many rules. 

I continued in French, “My father in rotting way in prison, we’re living in squalor in our own home and there’s a maniac plotting a war in our midsts! But nothing’s changed!” there was so much more I could have added but I couldn’t bring my self to do so.

“Don’t yell Draco. It’s unbecoming.” she frowned.  I slouched on my pile of drapery as she sat up straighter. She always had good posture that was obviously not passed down to me in his moment. She continued in French “I know that our situation is not ideal,” I scoffed “but that is all the more reason why you should go back to school. There is nothing for you here but these four walls. Your headmaster reminded you that you have options. I’m not saying that you have to take them but it may be beneficial-”

“I am not accepting help from the golden amy. I’d rather die-” I began

“And you almost did.” my mother’s voice was raised now and this was not something that happened often. I had overstepped my boundaries. There was a moment of silence before she began again in a more calming tone. “The Dark Lord was kind in sparing your life, whatever the reason may have been. You don’t have to accept the other side’s help but you do have to escape this, if even for a little while.”

I stared down at my hands and scowled at the hangnail plaguing my left forefinger. “I won’t leave you here.” My mother got up and crossed the short distance to my bed and sat down beside me. She took my left hand into her hands. I never noticed that my hands had grown larger than her’s until now.

“Draco, this world is not for you. You are too good and have so much to become to be pulled into this mess. You are already a part of it but unlike most of us here, you can rise above it and school is the only way you can do that. We will do all that we can to protect you but we cannot do that if you don’t help yourself first.” I knew she was referencing Snape again. “And as for me, I’m almost insulted that you would worry about my well being. I’ve been married to a Death Eater for almost eighteen years and grew up with you aunt Bella, I’m sure I can take care of myself.” I hated when my mother used humour to cover her own nerves especially when it was a failed attempt. I knew my mother and father had a decent marriage aside from arguments on how to raise me. She also had a good relationship with her sister for most of their lives. Her relationships with her husband and sister changed when the Dark Lord came back. Everything changed when he came back. 

Her words made me feel like I was a child and she thought I could be distracted so easily. I was about to protest once again when she got up and went over to the muggle contraption to retrieve my letter. She handed it to me and smiled slightly.

“Consider this an order Draco. You will be going back to school. You may be seventeen now, but you are still my son.” those word in French sounded so much more final. She sat back down on her bed and picked up a book she had been reading earlier in the day. The conversation was over.

In that moment I had no idea that the next month would prove to be more trying than anything I had ever experienced in my life. 

No, at that moment, staring at the Hogwarts seal, I pondered for the umpteenth time, how I had come to a point where I was a prisoner in my childhood home. I also wondered at what point my hangnail had disappeared.

 

 

**AN** : There you go! I promise the coming chapters won’t be this long, but I really didn’t want to break up  these two parts. As I stated, the story will continue in 3 rd person for now as I personally find first person annoying for an entire story. But let me know what you think. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, she thought, they definitely had sex

 

**Chapter Two**

 

“She’s been following us around since we got back from school. It’s like she’s a lost dog or something.” Ron scowled as he sat down on his bed beside Hermione. The three of them sat in his Chudley Cannons  clad bedroom, which he and Harry had been sharing for the summer. He flinched as Hermione’s hand forcefully collided with his arm and turned to face her shocked expression. “What?” he questioned and inched away from her.

“Don’t call your sister that!” Hermione went to hit him again but Ron evaded her attack and sat beside Harry on the opposite bed for protection. Harry didn’t move as Ron crawled behind him and rested his head on the wall the bed was up against.

“It’s true! Tell her Harry!”

The dark haired teenager glanced down at the floor and nodded slightly. “Yeah, what Ron said.”

Ron scowled yet again, this time at the back of his best friend’s head. “Thanks for backing me up there mate.” He said sarcastically. Harry grunted and flopped down on the bed, forcing Ron to scoot over. “You don’t understand Hermione, every time we’ve tried to get away to discuss ‘you know what’ and ‘you know who’ she’s there. We’ve had a hard enough time with so many people in the house and my mother going mad about the wedding. Do you know how many times she’s had us de-gnome the back yard since we got back? Eighteen! We only do it once a year usually. Does she think the gnomes humping like rabbits out there?”

Hermione stifled a laugh and forced as disapproving look. “That’s still no reason to call your sister a dog.”

Ron shook his head, “I never called her one, I said she’s like a dog. Completely different than-“ Harry shot back up into a sitting position.

“As much as I would love to talk about gnomes and dogs, we do have a lot to talk about and not much time.” 

Hermione had arrived at the Weasley home just in time for dinner. She was instantly thrown into the family frenzy on planning a wedding and worried faces. Harry and Ron had told the house that she was alright but like her two best friends, they had to see her for themselves. They asked many questions about her trip before talks turned to more preparations for Bill and Fleur’s wedding. What should have been no more than an hour long dinner turned into a three hour affair and that didn’t even include dessert. Afterward it was Harry and Ron’s turn to do the dishes and Fleur stole Hermione to get her opinion on her wedding dress. Another hour later Ron finally showed up at Bill and Fleur’s room, claiming that Molly wanted to her to fold the washing upstairs. On their way up to Harry and Ron’s room they encountered Ginny, who insisted that she follow them to get away from her mother. When Ron refused, the youngest Weasley shouted at him and called him a liar for saying things wouldn’t change between them.

When Ginny and Harry broke up after Dumbledore’s funeral she had been reassured by Harry, and later on her brother, that nothing would change and they would all always be close. Harry and Ron’s secrecy proved to be putting Ginny in a sour mood, one that she’d apparently been in all summer.

It was late now and Molly would be assuring that everyone was in their own room by a certain hour. This rule was originally put in place when Mrs. Weasley thought Harry and Ginny were still together, but stayed as the woman did not like the idea of so many unattended hormonally driven teenagers under her roof  at the one time that she couldn’t keep a eye on. In less than an hour she would poke her head into Ron’s room and usher Hermione downstairs into Ginny’s room. Harry was right, there were more important matters to discuss, and fast.

So, over the next forty minutes they theorised about the horcruxes, how to destroy them and the all important R.A.B. They had known there were at least six all together, including the diary and the ring. They had to find the real locket of Slytherin, as well as Hufflepuff’s Cup and Ravenclaws’s heirloom, which Hermione remembered from Hogwarts: a History, is said to be a diadem. They also hypothesised that Gryfindor’s sword could be one as it too was a Hogwarts relic, but Harry was quick to dismiss it, saying that there was no way that Voldemort would use the sword as a horcrux.

“How come?” Hermione argued. “It would be the ultimate preverbal slap in the face Gryfindor. And why only use three of the four?”

Ron was now lying on his back on the floor between the two beds. “Yeah, You-Know-Who seems like he would be the obsessive compulsive type and want all four, perfectly placed and labelled too.” Harry frowned.

“There’s no way he could get to it. The sword was in Dumbledore’s care until he died. And he knew about the horcruxes then, or at least suspected. He would have made sure Voldemort never got access to the sword.”

Hermione was still not convinced. “What about Quirell?” she asked skeptically, “As a Hogwarts professor he would have had access to Dumbledore’s office.”

“Yeah, and Barty Crouch Jr. and Sna- anyone else who has been secretly working for Voldemort.” Ron said.

Hermione picked up on Ron almost slipping Snape’s name. It seemed the name still triggered a level of animosity in Harry. His eyes lit up with an angry fire and she wondered for a moment if he would hesitate to kill him if he ever saw him again.

She also picked up on Ron’s eagerness to support her throughout their entire conversation. Not that it was unwelcome, but Ron usually agreed with Harry on issues because he generally thought he was right, which he rarely was in her opinion. Him sticking up for her was nice and brought a familiar endearing feeling for the boy that she did not feel like exploring at the moment.

“No,” Harry said in a very irritated manner, jolting Hermione out of her thoughts “he himself would have to do it. He can’t just have his minions walking around with a piece of his soul in a jar, like marmalade or pickles.” Harry huffed and shuffled back so that his back was against the wall. This conversation was draining him, everything was draining him.

“And Quirrel?” Hermione asked. Harry closed his eyes and titled his head to the side.

“He was only a shell of himself then Hermione,” the dark haired boy said impatiently “living off of unicorn blood on the back of another man’s head! How in the hell would he split his soul when there’s nothing there to split!” His voice was raised and almost shrill now. His eyes were still closed but his brow was frowned, showing that he was very much annoyed.

“Okay, Harry!” Hermione said, getting equally frustrated. “I’m just trying to figure out where we go from here, seeing as how you two haven’d done anything all summer!” She knew she shouldn’t have said anything. She knew about Ginny, she knew about the wedding and she knew about the comings and goings of Order members like this was their second home, but she couldn’t help herself. She wasn’t used to her ideas getting shot down to bluntly.

Harry was now sitting up again, staring at Hermione with a look of anger far beyond annoyance. “How dare you say that we haven’t done anything?!” Before he could go on and before Ron could intervene Mrs. Weasley knocked on the door before entering the newly hostel environment. Feeling the tension she looked at Hermione who was looking down at her hands, the Harry who was staring intently at one of Ron’s posters, almost as if trying to burn a whole through it with his mind. She then turned to her youngest son who was trying to look anywhere but his mother and two best friends. 

“What’s going on up here?” she finally asked. When she was met with silence she looked to Hermione again for an answer. “Well?”

Hermione looked to Harry and then to Ron and could tell that the conversation was firmly over for now, along with the fact that Mrs. Weasley would separate them anyway. “Nothing,” she finally replied to the older lady. “I was just heading to bed. Goodnight.” She stood and forced a smile for Mrs. Weasley before stomping down the stairs like a two-year-old.  

 

That night Hermione found herself tossing and turning, unable to get comfortable in Ginny’s small bedroom. It wasn’t the room that was the problem however, she had spent countless warm summer nights sharing the space with the youngest Weasley, it was the argument that she had just had with her best friends. Namely Harry. Thinking about the Horcrxes and how angry Harry had gotten with kept her up for a while. In theory Voldemort’s Horcruxes could be anything an anywhere. It was a hunch that he would choose objects of value but logically couldn’t he have a piece of his soul in a horseshoe half way around the world? It was silly, yes, but the thought that they could be going about this the wrong way was was terrifying. She wan’t sure how much time they had to find and destroy the horcruxes but the more time it took, the more lives were destroyed and lost. They didn’t have time for hunches.  Hermione inwardly cursed the late headmaster for leaving them with such a large task. They may be considered adults in the wizarding world, but they were still teenagers and this was more than she ever thought she’d have on her plate at seventeen. Harry would probably hate her if he knew she thought like that.

Harry.  If she felt this overwhelmed by everything, she couldn’t imagine how he must feel. Seventeen, with the wizarding world pretty much on your shoulders. The general public expected a lot from him, the Order expected a lot from him, the ministry expected a lot from him. And here she was, his best friend pretty much calling him a lazy, useless git. 

These were her last thoughts as she finally drifted off into a disturbed slumber. 

She had dreams of running around dark mazes that constantly shifted,  searching for something, most likely a horcrux. After running around for what seemed like hours she would find what she was looking for only to have a grotesque large snake seemingly fall from the sky and strike at her. In another dream she would be sprinting down a hallway at Hogwarts, trailing after Ron and Harry. Something was chasing them.  As the three of them reach a solid wall, a gap as large as a quidditch stadium would appear in the ground.  Harry and Ron would stop at the hole and look at one another before  leaping across the gap and through the brick wall. Hermione, shocked at what she just saw, stops at the hole but can’t jump. She felt there was no way she  could make it across, and even if she did  she would hit the wall and fall to her death. Not sure what to do, she decided to examine the dark, bottomless crevasse. To her shock, she could faintly hear desperate voices calling her name. She would almost picture faceless bodies trying to claw their way out of the darkness. Before Hermione could have another thought, she felt her body being shoved into crevasse and waking up violently.

That was the last dream she had before waking up in Ginny’s room, shaking and sweating in the sill and quiet of the room. She needed water. She rolled over to get out of bed when she caught movement in the bed across from her.  Figuring Ginny was having a nightmare as well Hermione, grabbed her wand from the night table and walked out of the room. 

In the kitchen, glass of water in hand, Hermione sat at the Weasley table in the dark. She was so used to the house that the darkness did not bother her. She only used her wand to see the clock, which told her it was half past three.

She pondered her strange dreams as she drank, the cooling water doing little to settle her nerves. There was little detail in them and they happened to quickly but it still all felt so real and that was what rattled her. She had to keep reminder herself they were just dreams. The first one obviously symbolized their hunt for the Horcruxes and Voldemort getting in their way. The second one probably  meant that there would be obstacles they were going to have to face. Harry and Ron were out of reach because of the disagreement they had had earlier that was still weighing on her mind. As for who had pushed, her, it could be anyone.

Hermione had a feeling the next day would be hectic so she decided getting back to bed would be a good idea, wether or not she fell back asleep was another issue. Ginny still had her sheet drawn up when she entered the room but she was still now. Hermione did not notice that something was off until she was nestled back into her on bed. For what seemed like a second, a  foot that was not Ginny’s jutted out from under the covers and quickly went back under. Hermione shot up and realised the foot movement made no sound at all. A silencing charm, she thought. Hermione’s eyes darted over to Ginny’s night table and hoped that she wouldn’t see what she did. Atop the table was Ginny’s wand, an old novel, a chocolate frog wrapper and back rimmed, rounded glasses. 

___________________________________

 

The next morning, Harry was still not talking to Hermione, which she did not mind at all after what she had seen, last night. It wasn’t that she was a prude about two of her friends possibly having sex, she was more upset about their sneaking around. From what Hermione knew, they had ended their relationship because Harry did not want to put Ginny in danger. Ginny did not take this well, things got awkward and they had avoided each other since.

 

At breakfast she looked for signs of a rekindling of their romance, perhaps she had missed something in her absence, but saw nothing. They continued to ignore each other as Harry chatted away with Ron and Ginny carried on with the twins. There was something different however. They were both beaming and seemingly content, a far cry from the forced smiles she had received from the two last night at dinner. Smiles that reminded her that there was a war going on and sometimes it was difficult to pretend that there wasn’t. But now, if she didn’t know any better, Hermione would have thought that all the Horcruxes had been found and destroyed last night along with Voldemort, by the look on Harry’s face. Yes, she thought, they definitely had sex.

 

Once Hermione was sure of what had transpired last night between Harry and Ginny, irritation quickly set it. How rude of them to do THAT mere feet from where she slept. Surely they can control themselves at this age. Even though they were her friends, Hermione couldn’t decide whether or not she was disgusted and the more she thought about it the more irked she became. So much so that when Ron had asked her if she wanted the last sausage, something he rarely did, she snapped at him for making a sex joke.

 

“What time did Minerva say she would be here, Arthur?” Mrs. Weasley asked her husband as she continued to clean off the table. Only the two of them, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny remained in the kitchen.

 

“I believe she said nine o’clock.” Arthur replied, finishing the last of his tea. “Which means I should be going.” he added glancing at his wrist watch. The Weasley patriarch picked up his briefcase from beside the table and gave his daughter a kiss on her head. “Don’t drive your mum too crazy.” He said to the table of teenagers. Though his statement only applied to two of the four of them, they all knew it was meant for all. Harry and Hermione were family where Mr and Mrs. Weasley were concerned.

 

“That should be soon then.” Mrs. Weasley stated in reference to McGonagall’s arrival time. She leaned up to receive a kiss from her husband. They whispered their ‘I love you’s to one another before Arthur made his way out the back door. 

 

“Ginny, can you help me with the dishes?” she asked, although it was more of a command.

 

Ginny sighed, not in the mood to get up, and grabbed her father’s empty tea cup. “What about Hermione?” she asked after Mrs. Weasley started the dishes. After a moment of silence, Ginny realised she was not getting an answer and dragged her feet into the kitchen.

 

“Does your mom know about you-know-what?” Hermione asked Ron, still unable to look at Harry.

 

Hermione was used to gender roles in the wizarding world. Even though she did not agree with them, she complied with them at the Weasley home because she was a guest and even in a muggle home she would help clean the table and wash dishes. She found it odd that Mrs. Weasley excused her of her duties as if she was purposely trying to give the tree of them some time to together.

 

Ron shook his head. “No, she probably suspects that there is something we’re not telling her and that McGonagall is a part of it.” He said dryly, still offended from earlier.

 

“Why is McGonagall visiting right now?” Hermione asked, ignoring Ron’s tone.

 

“She’s _been_ visiting.” he said, again in the same annoyed tone “At least once a week since the holidays began, grilling Harry.” He glanced at Harry who was staring at the dinning room door that lead to the hallway. “She thinks he knows more about Dumbledore’s death and how to stop you-know-who.” Ron still refused to say his name out loud. Unlike Harry and Hermione, he had been raised to fear the name and like most of the wizarding community, it was a hard habit to shake.

 

“What did you tell her?” Hermione faced Harry for the first time, his exuberant demeanor now gone, and replaced with a slight scowl. He shrugged.

 

“I didn’t tell her about you-know-what, if that’s what you’re asking.” he looked away from Hermione. “I told her about that Dumbledor and I were on the tower, he was training me. I had worn my cloak because I was out after hours. When I heard someone coming, I hid under the cloak and then Malfoy showed up. I told her about their conversation and how he was going to kill him up until the Carrows, Greyback and Yaxley showed up. I told her about that and then about Snape…” Harry trailed off, still staring intently at the door opposite the table. Hermione shifted uncomfortably.

 

“Do you think she believed you? The earlier stuff, I mean.” Harry’s jaw tightened and Hermione realised that maybe she should not have posed that question. That, and she probably should have apologised for her comment last night before posing all of these questions.

 

“Yes Hermione.” He said sarcastically and turned to face her again “Aside from doing absolutely nothing all summer, I also, like you, kiss every authoritative figure’s arse.” Harry said cooly. Ron was about to interject when Hermione blurted out

 

“Well I’m sorry for saying that you did nothing all summer Harry.” Hermione snapped “Apparently shagging Ron’s sister is a very productive and demanding task.” At least she apologised. 

 

“What?!” Ron yelled, dumfounded with anger and embarrassment plastered all over his face. Before he could say anything, he was interrupted yet again.

 

“Oi, she’s here!” bellowed Fred from the sitting room. 

 

“Fred!” Mrs. Weasley bustled into into the dining area to yell down the hall to the siting room. “Why aren’t you outside painting the chairs?” Fred and George stalked in to the kitchen, Minerva McGonagall behind him.

 

“Oh mum, there’s a spell for that these days you know?” George said cheekily. 

 

“And it leaves behind dreadful drip marks and stains the soil. Now get!” she said sternly to her two twin boys. They both sighed and made their way towards the back door. “Ginerva is in the kitchen, she will show you where they are in the shed.” The red-headed lady turned to the Hogwarts professor and smiled “Good morning Minerva. Can I get you anything?” McGonagall shook her had.

 

“No thank you Molly. I won’t be staying for too long.” She turned to the table of teenagers. “Good morning.”

 

“Good morning professor.” they said eerily in unison. After six years, it had become habit.

 

“Ms Granger,” McGonagall turned to the young woman, “it is nice to see you. If you are not too busy, may I speak with you in private?” Everyone in the room besides McGonagall looked confused at her requesting an audience with Hermione as opposed to Harry.

 

“Er, sure.” Hermione said as she got up from the table and followed the old witch into the sitting room.

 

Once they were both comfortable, McGonagall in an arm chair and Hermione in the couch across from her, McGonagall cast a silencing charm on the room and began.

 

“I don’t want to take up too much of your time Ms. Granger. I’m sure Molly had you busy with the wedding.”

 

“Oh no.” Hermione said too quickly. She was not looking forward to preparing for the wedding all day and if she had her way McGonagall could tell her her whole life story if she wanted to. “Don’t rush, this seems important.” Hermione straightened in her seat and prepared her self for a slew of questions concerning Harry, what they knew and what they were up to.

 

“It is.” she nodded “As you may know, I am the new headmistress of Hogwarts this year following the events in June.” There was a moment of uncomfortable silence before the witch continued. “I have the task of appointing the Head students for this school year and we have already received your confirmation Ms.Granger. Congratulations.”

 

“Thank you professor.” Hermione smiled. Surely McGonagall didn’t come here to congratulate her.

 

“I have also received confirmation from the Head Boy. I’m sure you remember a Draco Malfoy.”

 

“Yeah, I- wait, what?!” Hermione exclaimed.

 

“Draco Malfoy.” McGonagall said calmly. “Pale boy, light hair, arrogant, entitled, Slytherin.” Hermione shook her head.

 

“I know who he is Professor.” Hermione  didn’t think she would ever forget the face of the boy who made her feel so unwelcomed at Hogwarts, a place where she knew she belonged. “But why? I’m sure casting Unforgivables, leading Death Eaters into the school and multiple accounts of attempted murder are grounds for expulsion, Professor. Didn’t Harry tell you-”

 

“I know about Mr. Malfoy’s involvement in that night. But nothing can be proved-” the professor began.

 

“Nothing can be proved?” Hermione said. Her irritation from earlier bubbling to the surface. “Harry was there, why don’t you believe him?”  


“I do Ms. Granger, but there are no grounds to expel him.” she said as if expecting this reaction from Hermione “No one other than myself, you, Mr. Weasley and those on the tower know what really transpired. Using Mr. Potter will bring to light to other issues that we don’t nescearily want. His cloak, which was meant to be a secret, will be exposed and many will wonder what Potter was doing there in the first place and why he did nothing to stop it.”

 

“He couldn’t, Dumbledore had-” Hermione started

 

“I know. But then that will raise the question; Why did Dumbledore immobilize Harry when he could have helped him?” McGonagall stated, and she was right. Having Harry talk about what really happened that night would raise too many questions, questions that he could not answer. “I myself do not know all of the answers and if Potter’s actions can not be justified then he will have no case anyway. Unless there is something you would like to share.”

 

“No.” Hermione answered too quickly again. She rolled her neck to avoid looking her professor in the eyes.

 

“Well then, I cannot expel him Ms. Granger. It will draw too much attention but we do have the advantage with this.” she said simply, piquing Hermione’s curiosity.

 

“Advantage? Head Boy? I don’t understand why you would give him more power when you know you can’t trust him.” Hermione asked. There had to be a reason. She refused to believe she was a part of a world that rewarded Death Eaters after they attempt to take the life of their Head Master and injure others in the process.

 

“That is where you come in Ms. Granger. He does not think that we are the wiser to what he is or what he has done, therefore we expect him to carry on as if nothing has changed. As Head Girl you will be expected to work and live along side him-”  
  
“You want me to spy on him?” Hermione interjected. McGonagall remained silent to consider her next words.

 

“In a sort.” McGonagall said “We don’t know how privy he is to Voldemort’s inner circle or to any of his plans but we know that he is a Death Eater and for now that is enough. We want you to gain his trust, do what you deem necessary to to find out anything you can.”

 

“But he’s not just going to flat out tell me what Voldemort is planning, even if he did somehow come to trust me.” Hermione could not believe she was going along with this as if it were real.

 

“Snooping around his quarters, leginmens when he sleeps. Even just recording any odd behaviour.” she replied. “Ms. Granger, we don’t want you to risk your life in this. We don’t expect anything ludicrous, and I don’t normally condone this type of behaviour but right now, after Dumbledore… we find ourselves running out of options.” The old witch glanced down at the carpeted floor as she took a deep breath.

 

There were too many holes in this plan, Hermione thought. Besides the fact that she did not want to spend her final year babysitting Malfoy, there was the possibility that he knew nothing and her efforts were futile. Or he would figure it out and would try to use her to gain information about Harry. Or maybe she would simply fail. 

 

She was smart, clever even, but a spy? Why her? This plan was sloppy and wasn’t much of a plan at all but it showed how desperate the Order was. No one wanted to acknowledge it but Voldemort was winning and time was running out. This brought her back to the thoughts that had kept her up last night.

 

“I understand professor.” Hermione said. Dumbledore’s death had shaken up the order from what Hermione could see. At the time there had been no solid plan in fighting Voldemort but Dumbledore’s presence had made everyone feel like all would be alright. When he was murdered in June that was all shattered and the threat of war became very real for all. The pressure was on to rise up and fight, but no one knew where to start as Voldemort was not making the same mistakes as he had the first time. Voldemort had managed to eliminate the one wizard he ever feared and he did not even have to show up. No one admitted it, but they were all scared. 

 

“Only a handful of us know about what I’m telling you right now. Remus, Moody and Kingsley. We felt it would be best if fewer people knew.” Hermione was about to ask another question when McGonagall answered it for her. “Yes, you may tell Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter, as I know you will any how. Just make sure they do not compromise your mission in any way.”

 

“Thank you professor.” Even though Harry was upset with her and Ron was acting strangely, Hermione knew she would not be able to keep this from them. They were her best friends after all. McGonagall cracked a smile for the first time since she arrived in the Weasley home.

 

“Does this mean you will do it Ms. Granger?” she asked, trying to hide the eagerness in her voice. Hermione wasn’t really sure at first. It wasn’t that she was afraid of Malfoy, in fact he was part of the reason she had developed her thick skin over the past few years.  She was afraid of letting the Order and everyone down. She had no idea how she would get information out of Malfoy. She was book smart but she dealt with fact not with secrecy and lies. However, the reality of the situation was that there were people counting on her not matter how uncomfortable this made her. She had always felt like the useless one when it came to her, Harry and Ron. She was not the fighters or the flyers they were and the thought of fighting in an all out war terrified her but this would be her chance to do something on her own. This was her purpose right now and she was going to face it head on.

 

“Yes, I will.”

  

**AN:** Soo long, I know! I wanted to throw Draco in there but it would not have flowed well in the story. Plus then this chapter would have reached epic lengths and no one wants that. Or do you? Let me know *cough* review *cough* :)  



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